


Make up after break up

by spellwing777



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: 'monster slaying', Dirty Talk, Geralt can handle some serious abuse, Geralt is a kinky fuck, Heavy BDSM, I mean, Like, M/M, Multi, Seriously this would send most people into shock, Size Kink, Size queen Geralt, Topping from the Bottom, extremely experienced Geralt, he's 90+ he has done some shit, howl for me boy, the exact opposite of a blushing uke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 07:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20372668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwing777/pseuds/spellwing777
Summary: Literally this is just PWP of Geralt fucking out an angry boner on a bender because Yen dumped him...again. That's it. I really have no excuse for this other than keks for keks sakes.





	Make up after break up

Geralt took his last swig of the bottle, and looked at it reproachfully. Fuckin’ vodka, and it  _ still  _ wasnt cutting it. He must’ve grown a tolerance to it over the week.

“Fuck you Yen.” He growls, and makes his way down the street not even swaying a  _ little,  _ and he’s bitterly disappointed by that. Well, when the alcohol won’t work, something else always does, and it’s just as good at wasting time until Yen decided she was done with being mad with him and told him he could come back.

He wanders his way to the nicer part of Novigrad to the high-end brothel. He’s looking for something specific, and the run-of-the-mill whores is not going to come anywhere  _ near  _ scratching the angry itch he’s been nursing for a week. What he’s looking for is bound to be difficult to find, and expensive, so to the high-end brothel he goes. The guards around here don’t like riff-raff, and with him stinking of booze and strapped down with armor and all the weapons he qualifies, but they take one look at his face and whip around to bother beggars. A pity; a fight was just as good as a fuck sometimes (and sometimes both, in either order) but these pasty bastards wouldn't give him what he wanted and he had no intention of starting shit only to be left unsatisfied and in jail.

He shoulders his way in and makes a beeline for the madame, ignoring the swooning courtesans. She spotted him immediately and frowned deeply. He can guess what she’s thinking  _ ‘oh great, an angry bugger looking for a punching bag’ _ , and waves a hand to cut her off before she can tell him to beat it.

“Looking to get fucked instead of the other way around.” He grunted. “What have you got that can throw me around a little?”

She paused, thinking. “...Female? Or male?”

“I want the real thing, not a strap-on.”

“Ah, well then.” She tapped her lips. “And do you want someone that knows their way around a crop?”

“Any of them good with a knout?”

Her eyebrows crawled up into her hair. “Ah...well...we  _ might,  _ but-”

He comes close so he can talk without risk of being overheard. “I’m not working, madame. I only kill monsters when someone’s paying me to.”

He pulls back and waits for her to get it, and sure enough her eyes narrow as she considered it.

“...We have two.” She murmurs quietly. “Very exclusive, for the kind of person looking for something more...exotic. One is a little on the... _ hairy _ side-”  _ translation: werewolf  _ “And the other...can leave you  _ bloody  _ in more ways than one.”  _ vampire. _

“Good. I take one of each.”

“One of-you want  _ both?”  _ She said incredulously. 

“Listen lady, I’ve been fucking around longer than you’ve been alive I know what I’m about.” He snapped, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been angry for a week and I’m a witcher. I’m in the mood for a serious bender  _ and  _ I can handle it. Tell them to bring the heavy-duty toys and don’t bother with the rope, I break it. Have any padded manacles?”

“...Yes?”

“Good. You got a basement unit? This  _ will  _ get loud and I don’t want the neighbors calling the guard.”

“Of course sir. I have a special one set up just for the, ah, hairy one. He tends to howl when he gets going.”

“Perfect.” He hums.

“Any other considerations?”

“I want a meal too. Don’t care what it is so long as it’s filling, I burn a lot of fuel at the best of times.” He paused. “...Make sure to let them know what I am before you send them down, the last time I tried this elsewhere the poor succubus thought I was after her head not her cunt. Damaged a couple of tables and lit a tapestry on fire before she calmed down.”

“Now, do understand that I’ll have to add an extra charge on  _ top  _ of the usual; just in case you really are after a trophy other than bragging rights.”

“Fair enough.” He grunts, and counts out the coins. It makes a considerable dent, but not like he wasn't expecting this to be expensive. Besides, after his angry streak killing anything and everything and selling the parts he’s pretty flush with coin for now. So long as he doesn't light anything on fire he’ll get the deposit back at least. 

“This way please.” She leads him into the cellars, past the pantry and some honest to god cells-huh, prison fetish, that’s new. Maybe he should try that sometime-and into a room that while it’s nicely furnished, it’s not lavish by any means. All the furniture is made of metal and very sturdy, the sheets on the bed plain and cheap. Probably got ripped up a lot.

“We’ll be down with the meal in a few minutes. Would you like some wine to get you in the mood?”

Well, he may as well wash the vodka down with something nice. “Sure.”

She leaves him with a bottle of Est Est. The food that gets sent down after that isn't spectacular, but there's lots of it and it is indeed filling. Full, he strips off his armor and slips into the robe that had been left in a cabinet and waited, picking at the rolls.

They enter, and he looks them over. One’s got salt-n-pepper hair and is probably in his forties, but the term ‘silver fox’ applies, with a build similar to his own, and the other is a platinum blonde slender man that looks to be in his early twenties. Both of them stare at him.

“...I thought she was kidding.” Says silver.

“Me too.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “What, witchers don’t get laid?”

“They don’t get laid by monsters. Usually they’re sticking a silver sword in us, not a cock.”

“You can’t have met many witchers then.” Geralt drawls. “Wanna introduce yourselves gentleman?”

“I am Gordon.” The silver-haired one says with a nod. He can bet this one is the wolf, he smells musky and very faintly of wet dog.

“And I Adrian.” He sweeps a graceful bow. Yup, definitely vampire.

“What kind are you Adrian…?”

Adrian pauses in the middle of getting up from his bow, looking apprehensive. “Ah...higher?”

“Well obviously you arent a fucking plummard,” Geralt says annoyed, “True higher vampire or-”

“Oh goodness, no. I’m a katakan.” He sniffed. “Those pretentious bastards can’t be arsed to hold a job.”

Geralt chuckled. “Hey, I’ve known one that did, they’re not  _ all  _ bad.”

“Data point of one.” The katakan groused. 

The werewolf laughed, and the tension in the room eased. The two approached and sat on either side of him, now more curious than cautious. The katakan especially look interested.

“This is the closest I’ve been to a witcher.” He murmured. “You are actually quite...handsome. The eyes especially add an exotic touch.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” 

Adrian chuckled lowly, perfectly playing the role of a vampire in one of those bodice-rippers Yen was so fond of (and that she read to him, on occasion. She’d said it was to give him an appreciation of literature and it worked-though whether it was due to the content of the book or the fact that she’d read it to him when he was tied down with a cockring on was up for debate)

“Do you have any rules you’d like us to follow? A safeword?” The vampire asks.

“Yellow for ‘I like it, but ease off a little’, red for ‘full stop’. If I cant talk I’ll tap you with my hand, or snap my fingers. I don’t like choking, never have, never will. You try it and I’ll go right for your balls with my teeth. No scat either; I have to wade through shit in my job sometimes, so it’s gotten real old.”

The werewolf is giving the katakan an incredulous look. “...Never had someone actually  _ specify _ that.”

“I’m near a century old, dog. You see a lot.”

The katakan was having a hard time keeping up the act. He  _ almost  _ giggled. “Oh goodness, you’re almost as old as me. It’s a nice change of pace to have someone as experienced.”

“Tired of having nubile young girls wanting to get off on you saying ‘I vant to suck your blud?’ ”

The Katakan lost his composure completely. It took him a minute to get it back. “Gods, I was going to say you should moonlight as a prostitute with looks like yours, but I take it back. Court jester would be better.”

“Oh you won’t be laughing when I’m done with you.” Geralt grinned. “Gimme some sugar batty.”

He pulls him in by the hair and the vampire goes along easily, laughing into the kiss. Gordon clambers onto the bed too, taking the opportunity to set down the heavy bag he’d brought with him. Geralt can hear clinking, and he’s pleased they did indeed bring the manacles. Logically a witcher should be worried about a werewolf and a vampire tying him down, but considering he’d been taken out by a peasant with a pitchfork once it really just doesn't register as any more dangerous than getting restrained by a pretty courtesan that could just as easily slip a knife between his ribs. If he stayed paranoid he’d never have kinky sex, and what was a long life lived with nothing vanilla other than a life not lived at all?

Adrian is making stifled little noises, and Geralt pulls back to get a look at him.

“You have  _ fangs. _ ” The vampire says, delighted. “That’s so  _ sexy _ .”

“Are you serious,” Gordon said from the head of the bed. “A vampire with a fang kink?”

Geralt ignores him to grin at Adrian. “Want me to bite you?”

“Oh,” Adrian said breathily, “Yes please.”

He shoved him to the bed and went to town on the katakan’s neck, licking and sucking hickies until he’s squirming-oh, he had a neck fetish too, lovely-and then bit,  _ hard.  _ Maybe he doesn't have quite as big of fangs, but he still leaves nice little punctures not all that dissimilar to a vampire. He licks up the blood, and it tastes of arousal. Sitting back to look, Adrian is looking flushed and his pants have already started to tent. 

“Very neatly done, in fact.” Gordon said, amused. 

“Want me to bite you too?” Geralt grinned.

The werewolf bared his teeth. “I prefer to do the biting.”

“Sadist.” Geralt says cheerfully.

“Why do you think they pay me so well?” He said and then unrolled his arsenal of tools. Oh wow, the dog really had quite the collection. Even Adrian is looking at it with interest.

“Oh so  _ this  _ is why you get the big bucks. Thought people just really liked wolfmen.”

“Oh, I’m not usually even hired for  _ that.”  _ He purred. “I have to say though, I’m glad I am. Otherwise I’d not have gotten picked by a witcher and  _ these-”  _ he pulled out a few flails “Would never have gotten used on anyone besides myself.”

He looked at Geralt, eyes glittering. “Just  _ how  _ sturdy are you?”

“I’ve gone toe-to-toe with a higher vamp. A true one. Swing it a little less harder than you’d do for yourself and you won't break anything.”

“Meletilites tits,” Adrian swore, “I’m going to be ruined for regular sex with humans after you, I  _ swear _ .”

“You're not the first bloodsucker to even say that either. Surprised more higher vamps are lining up to fuck us than kill us, honestly.”

“You could ‘slay’ all the vampires with your ‘sword’, and peace would be assured.” Gordon said, deeply amused.

“Hell, it might even work.” Adrian says, draping himself over Geralt’s back to nuzzle his neck. “What do you want to try first, hm? I’m a fan of the crop myself.”

Geralt waved a hand. “Doesn't do anything for me really. Not mean enough.”

Gordon made a delighted laugh, and tossed the crop and the birch aside. He instead dug around a little, looking for something special, and came up with what looked a lot like the one that had been used on him after king Foltest’s death, sans the small lead balls at the end of each strip of rawhide.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Mmhm. They use these on temple Isle for interrogations when they want the prisoners to live rather than die after five strokes.” The werewolf grinned. “Still will make you bleed, which I’m sure Adrian will appreciate.”

“Oh I will.” he purred. “Do you mind if I help clean you up after?”

“Nah, just don’t drink too much. Don’t want you getting whiskey dick batty.” 

Gordon looked amused. “Really?”

Adrian was somewhat embarrassed. “Well, blood is like alcohol to us and, you know...too much of a good thing?”

“I’ll cut you off when you’ve had enough.” The werewolf grinned. “First I’ve had to play both dom  _ and  _ bartender.”

He turned his attention on Geralt. “Strip for me and give me your wrists.”

He slides out of the robe with a little extra effort because he wants to put on a show. He likes to have his partners into it, even whores, because he got off on them getting off. He can already smell the interest from the vampire because of the bite earlier, and now he’s getting a little tickle of it from the dog now. He sizes Geralt up with interest, then slaps the manacles on.

“Good fit?” He asks.

He tests them. Not too loose, not too tight, and gives a nod.

“You want the gag too? I think that pretty mouth of yours could use something to occupy it with.”

“What about a cock?” Adrian asks eagerly.

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “You really wanna risk me biting down when he starts?”

“...Maybe not.”

Gordon pulls up a gag with an o-ring. 

Geralt grinned. “That’ll work.”

They run the chain to a bolt in the wall next to the bed and had him kneel. He had enough slack to give Adrian the room to slot himself between the chains, and Geralt rested his palms on the vampire’s hips, happily nuzzling the growing bulge in front of his face. He wouldn't be able to _quite_ get the suction with the o-ring gag, but he’d always been good with his tongue since he’d know what you could use a tongue for (lot of young men in a castle with no women with a lot of machismo about not being ‘the girl’. He was also phenomenal at hand jobs.) 

Gordon trailed the ends of the knout across his back. The little tickle of arousal from the werewolf was getting stronger. “Such lovely pale skin. The perfect canvass.” A pause. “See someone else has had the first honor of painting it. A pity, but at least I know you can take it. Would you like a number?”

He nodded.

“Let's start with five then, and see how you’re doing.”

The first one is like a wall of fire slamming into his back. Most lovers were too gentle even after explicit instructions, but the dog has taken him at his word and this hit stops  _ just  _ short of flailing the skin from his ribs. He groans as the scent of blood hits the air, and the vampire in front of him makes a high-pitched breathy noise and can’t get out of his breeches fast enough. His cock had gone from ‘interested’ to ‘ready to drill a hole through stone’ almost  _ instantly  _ and Geralt’s swallowing him down in seconds, Adrian practically frantic to get it in his mouth. He takes it easily because the thing he loved about this kind of pain is the  _ high,  _ and he’s already starting to ride the rush of endorphins and adrenaline. He’s never really had a gag reflex to start with, but that makes him relax his throat even more taking the vampire up to the root in one stroke.

Behind him the musky scent of arousal from Gordon kicks up a couple of notches as he trails the ends of the knout over the marks, letting the pain settle so he can go from overwhelming sensation to feeling each individual mark. “You take the whip just as well as you take a cock. Delightful.”

Adrian is fucking in and out of his mouth already, a slow pace to start with but Geralt hopes to goad him into really using his supernatural strength. He rolls his eyes up to see the vampire’s disguise is already slipping a bit; little fangs starting to show and his cheekbones sharper as he stares with a combination of lust and hunger at both his face and the marks on his back.

“Another dear?”

He makes a liquid, eager noise-all the affirmation he can give when getting his throat fucked-and Gordon makes a pleased hum. Down goes the whip and he jerks forward out of reflex and onto Adrian’s cock, the vampire growling softly. This is what gets him to really start with the fucking, the nails digging into his scalp lengthening into claws to better pin him in place. Somewhere along the line the werewolf has pushed his boot between his legs to give him something to rub against when the lashes rocked him forward, or the katakan’s thrusts rocked him back. The twin sensations are heady, and he’s slowly inched closer and closer to orgasm. Two more lashes and he’s in a haze of sensation, floating and having an out of body experience, and on the last the werewolf arches his foot up to rub firmly against him, masterfully getting him off even as he brings the whip down. He makes wordless screams around the cock in his throat and the metal of the o-ring bends just a  _ tad  _ as he bites down. Adrian’s saved from being a eunuch by it being steel.

There’s a pause to let him come down. Gordon urges the katakan to remove his cock, then grasps his chin gently. 

“Still doing well? Nod for me if you can.” The words seem distant and faint.

He nods slowly.

“More?”

He considers this, thoughts slow as molasses. He’s already in that glorious space he so rarely reached; he’s not going to feel more and that will just ruin his back. He shakes his head.

“Very good.” Gordon murmurs. “You took them so well, you deserve a short break. Adrian? If you wouldn't mind.”

The chain is taken down, and they both guide him to lie on the floor.

“May I? May I  _ please?”  _ The vampire begs, hands roving over his unmarred sides.

He nods, and the katakan goes to work, making obscene noises as he cleans the cuts. He must have changed because he can feel the long bony fingers resting on his shoulders; probably so that he could take advantage of how his true form has a much longer, broader tongue. The venom tingles on the cuts, numbing them slightly, taking a little of the edge off. Not too much, he’s still in his headspace, but it’s nicer, not quite so intense.

He pulls away with a raspy moan. “Oh gods, lovely. Hotter than a humans with this nice astringent bite at the back of the throat. If anything was to taste like sex, this would be it.”

“Thanks.” He grunted. He was starting to fall out of his headspace, which was a pity. He never could stay for long.

“You okay?” Gordon inquired gently. “You took them so beautifully, but I want to be sure.”

“Witcher, remember?” He slurred. “But if you want, get me a potion. It’s in my pack.”

Wolfman gets him a swallow, and even supports him to drink it. He’d  _ like  _ to say that he wasn’t some joe off the street that needed help-a normal guy would be screaming, if not in shock-but he must admit he’s feeling a little like an overcooked noodle. Besides, after that he’d like some contact. The dog knows what he’s doing with the aftercare, holding him in his lap and stroking his arm. Adrian watches his back-literally-in fascination.

“Oh wow,” He breaths. “It’s actually  _ healing.  _ He heals as fast as I do. Faster, I think.”

“What, really?” Gordon looks at his back, where the gashes were healing into angry red lines. “Damn, you are  _ magnificent _ .”

Geralt gives him a lopsided grin, and the vampire returns again. “Lemme just...clean off the rest.”

Geralt snorts. “Better not get too drunk bat; you still haven't gotten yours.”

“Well, technically you  _ did  _ suck my cock.” The vampire huffed, and cleaned up the rest of the tacky, drying blood, and Geralt shuddered.

“That  _ can’t  _ be what I think it is.” Gordon said, staring down at his crotch.

“Witcher stamina,” He said, grinning. “We’ve got a reputation for a  _ reason.” _

“And a blood kink.” Adrian added gleefully. “How many times  _ can  _ you come?”

“Best record is eight in a session.”

“Holy fuck,  _ how.”  _

“Two words: Sorceress. Construct.”

“I want  _ details.” _

“Some other time batty.” He patted the vampire’s knee, rolling to his feet and cracking his neck. “Round two fellas?”

The werewolf and the vampire threw their heads back and laughed.

* * *

“Wow, you are  _ flexible.” _ Adrian murmured, a hand wrapped around his ankles. Geralt’s upper back was pressed to the mattress, but his legs were up and over him, his ankles held to the sheets.

He let his own cock pop out of his mouth so he could answer. “Thanks. Needed a hand to do this though. Can’t  _ quite  _ manage it myself.”

“Happy to oblige.”

“I wonder,” Gordon said absentmindedly while running a warm cloth over his entrance (he insisted on cleanliness) , “Just how flexible  _ are _ you?”

“I’ve taken two at once. Good sized ones. Wanna try?”

“In a minute.” He chuckled. “I rather like watching this. Adrian, be a dear and pass me the brown vial?”

He took his hand off his cock where he’d been jerking himself, rough and slow while he watched and passed it. 

“Thank you.” He slicked his fingers, then started to work him into his hole. Geralt made a stifled noise as it started to tingle.

“Oooo, I can smell that.” Adrian’s nostrils flared. “What have you got in mind with that, huh?”

“Finding out just  _ how  _ flexible our dear witcher is.” He said, pointing to another roll. “Over here please.”

This roll had a varied selection of phallases, ranging from small plugs to things as thick as a wine bottle. 

“My goodness,” Adrian commented on the larger ones. “Can humans actually fit those?”

“Never met a one that could.” 

“Go ahead dog.” Geralt purrs. “You’d be surprised what I can take.” 

Gordon snorted. “Mutated human you may be, but I doubt you can take _ all  _ of these.”

“Well, I can damn well try. Go on, have fun.” Geralt said, going back to sucking his own cock. Adrian moaned softly, palming his own.

Gordon is all too happy to oblige, taking out a good sized one, still within the believable range. But between the oil and the lingering effects of the katakan’s venom It slid in to the hilt with absolutely no resistance. In fact, there was no friction, and Geralt hissed in frustration because he could barely feel the fucking thing. Sure, it did press against his prostate, but it didn't rub as well as it would have if he wasn't so damn loose. The dog teased him by thrusting it in a few times, huffing in an amusement when the witcher snapped at him to  _ get on with it already.  _ The next three still weren't big enough either, and he was moaning in frustration.

Finally Gordon pressed in a black plug as thick as his wrist and Geralt let his cock fall free. “Gods  _ yes,  _ that’s better.”

“You are magnificent like this.” Adrian said admiringly, which, admittedly, he did have  _ quite  _ the view. Geralt had noticed he’d been tugging on his ball sack the last quarter hour or so to stave off his orgasm, and he grinned smugly.

“I must agree, but wait till I give him the next one.” Gordon chuckled, and reached down between the witcher’s legs to press his cock back into his mouth. “Back to work. I think you look best with your cock in your mouth, and you will be simply  _ sublime  _ when you come in your own mouth on my favorite phallus.”

Adrian whined, tugging on his cock, which was an angry red and leaking. “You are an  _ artist,  _ Gordon.”

The dog made a pleased rumble, and slid the black plug out, and in went the largest. This one finally encountered some resistance, and Gordon went slow, rocking it in gently, until finally it slid home. Geralt was making stifled, high-pitched noises that almost sounded distressed, but he hadn’t given the signal, and Gordon watched in fascination as his hole twitched around the thick phallus. 

“Now,” He purred, getting a good grip on it, “Come for me witcher.”

And then his slid it almost all the way out...and back in. And like magic Geralt came, moaning around his twitching cock, swallowing himself down, toes curling under Adrian’s hand.

Gordon hummed happily as he slowly withdrew it, pleased with his work. He’d almost came on that one, but he gave the head of his cock a sharp pinch to cut it off. He wanted to see if he could get the witcher to come a few more times, and wasn't about to come himself until Geralt was absolutely wrecked. “I am thoroughly convinced, witcher. You take it just as well as I do, including in my other form.”

“Wait, you can actually do that while in your-oh goodness, have you  _ actually  _ fucked a human while _ -” _

“No, are you kidding? I could never fit. These are mostly for  _ my _ fun; you’ve no idea how angry I get on full moons. Fucking it out keeps me from going out and killing people.”

Geralt lets his cock pop free again-Adrian whines but he ignores him- “Wait, are you one of the werewolves that can  _ control  _ it?”

“Oh, you mean the ones that can change at will? Yes, I can. Got it from my mother.”

“Oh this I gotta see.” Geralt muttered, freeing his ankles with a flick-the katakan’s eyes widened at how  _ easily  _ he’d done it-and sat up. “C’mon, transform. Never got to see one of you all with a raging hard on, I wanna know if it’s normal or if it’s a red poker.”

The werewolf honest to god blushed. “I, uh…”

“Aw, don’t be shy wolf.” The vampire behind him said. “Neither of us are really human and besides, do you know how weird it is for me to find you two little pink things sexy? Nothing will faze me.”

“And I’ve had sex with constructs and lots of succubi. C’mon, show and tell.” 

He looked at both of them for a moment, then clambered off the bed. Gordon shook himself like a wet dog, and his outline blurred. Now he was a hulking beast, though Geralt had to admit he looked slightly different from most feral werewolves like that hunter he’d encountered, or that one guard that used his to kill criminals. He was better groomed, for one, and he had to wonder if the guy actually brushed himself. His muzzle was shorter, too. And, looking at the eyes, they were human with the unmistakable glimmer of intelligence.

And...yup, red poker. Although... “Huh. Not quite the same. Hell, even your dick is half human, half wolf.”

Geralt paused, considering, then turned to vampire. “What about you guys? I’ve seen plenty of you, but you don’t even have balls swinging in the breeze. Half the time I wonder if I’m fighting a female, it’s hard to tell.” 

The katakan threw his head back and laughed. “There  _ are  _ female katakans, they’re called bruxa! And our stuff  _ retracts,  _ how else are we to fly?”

“Show ‘n tell bat.” The werewolf growled. “Only fair.”

Adrian laughed, and obliged him. Like most katakans he had small horns and was bedecked in jewelry. Looked about the same as every other vampire he’d seen, though this time he was very obviously a he.

“Aw,” Geralt said, disappointed “It’s just a normal dick!”

“Wh- _ it’s ten inches!” _

“Are you kidding, I’ve known humans with dicks that big. I was expecting ridges!”

“You better be fucking grateful, the lower vampires have spines. Spines!”

Behind him Gordon is nearly laughing himself sick. “Oh gods above, this is the best.  _ The best.  _ I’m so telling my wife about this. _ ” _

"That's it, the dog gets to fuck me, you're just getting the blowjob."

"But-"

"But nothing. I fucking love being spit roasted and the only thing that dick is good for is getting sucked. Wait, bite me first. Only way either of these is going in is with some of your venom."

"Wouldn't that just knock you out?"

"Witcher, remember? Just a nibble now, I do not want you getting whisky dick."

Gordon was watching both of them, an incredulous look on his muzzle.

"Think the knot will fit?" Adrian gave the werewolf a curious look.

Gordon’s eyes widened. "Do you _ really- _ "

"Well, how else are we going to find out?" Geralt said.

Adrian grinned. Or grimaced, hard to tell with a face like a toothy cunt. "Inquiring minds want to know!"

"You heard the bat, get to stuffin'." Geralt said gleefully.

Adrian cracked up, the laugh coming out at chitters but still recognizably laughter. “So you want us to actually take you in our monster forms? So kinky, a witcher getting fucked by a katakan and a werewolf sound like a bad porn.”

“Would it help if I was acting all shy and virginal?”

“Please don’t.” Gordon said, clambering back up. “You’re much more fun than some sacred virgin.”

“ _ Have  _ you fucked vestibule virgins?” Geralt asked, curious.

“Virgins aplenty. Got a huge influx of them after this new book came out.” He said, giving Geralt a huge toothy grin. “They were into it in  _ theory,  _ but in practice...well.”

“Stop flirting you two.” Adrian licked his lips. “Where do you want me to bite?”

Geralt tapped the meat of his upper left arm, and the katakan very carefully fitted his teeth around the muscle. He bit quickly, and then released, fitting his mouth gently over the bite and sucking. It took a second or two, and then he felt it hit. He sighed happily, feeling knots that tended to linger in his back release. “Gods, you should  _ sell  _ that.”

After a moment Adrian pulls off. “Technically am, since you’re paying me.”

Gordon chuckles, and soon enough he feels a broad, clawed hand under his belly, raising his hips up onto a pillow for a better angle. “When I ask how you’re doing, tell me-in detail-what you feel. I want to make sure I’m not going to fast.”

Geralt nodded in affirmation, and Gordon started. Not with his cock, surprisingly, but with pushing something  _ else  _ in. He bent his head to Geralt’s entrance, licking his lips eagerly. “I have always wished to do this, but all my customers have been too squeamish to want to fuck me in my more monstrous form.”

“What- _ oh fuck.” _

Gordon’s tongue is thinner than a human’s, but it’s  _ much _ longer. He delights in flicking it in and out of him, Geralt’s hole loose enough to offer little resistance to him doing so. The witcher is just as delighted to have his tongue laving over his prostate; in all his years of fucking around this is the first time he’s  _ ever  _ felt something like this. Gordon undulates and corkscrews against his walls, and he comes for a third time embarrassingly quickly. Gordon pulls up, licking his lips in a satisfied, smug way, seeing the Katakan across from him minutely shaking.

“Oh,” The vampire says weakly. “I-I think I have a fetish for werewolves now.”

“Me too.” Geralt says thickly.

Gordon grins, deeply flattered. “Ready for me, dear witcher?”

“ _ Yes.”  _ Geralt hisses.

“Hold yourself open for me.” He growls, and Geralt shakily complies, exposing his pink, puckered hole. Gordon puts a heavy, clawed hand at the small of his back, and sees it twitch with anticipation. “Now, gape for me witcher. Let me see just how relaxed you are.”

He does, his hole falling open easily, and he has to take in a breath to control himself at the sight. “It’s beautiful how easily you open for me.”

He takes himself in hand and oils himself thoroughly, then carefully guides the tip in. Thankfully in this form hes very gently pointed, somewhat narrower at the tip, which will make it easier to push in. Even so he goes agonizingly slowly, still not  _ entirely  _ convinced he won’t hurt the witcher. The witcher in question makes breathy little ‘ _ ah, ah’,  _ noises as he slowly slide in, but they don’t sound pained. Adrian is gently petting Geralt’s white hair, doing what he can as well to help him relax.

He’s halfway when he decides to pause. “How are you doing, my dear?”

“G-good.” He pants.

“No pain?”

“N-no.” He moans as it twitches inside him. “F-feels good.”

“You are doing  _ very  _ well.” Gordon manages; it’s difficult to speak when the witcher feels so tight around him, but he likes to praise his lovers when they do something particularly pleasing, and taking him when he’s as thick as a wine bottle certainly counts. “So very well. Would you like me to continue?”

“Please.” Geralt whines. “ _ Please.” _

“Well, since you beg so prettily…”He purrs, slowly moving again. It’s a struggle to get the thicker bit in; the witcher’s hole fluttering around him as it struggles to take the rest, and he pauses again just before the knot.

“Oh, you feel so good my dear.” He moans. “So lovely and tight.”

“I bet.” Adrian snarks.

“Quiet, bat.” Gordon snarls. “Let me savor this.”

Geralt huffs an attempt at a laugh, the plaint body tightening painfully around him. He whines, bending over the witcher. “Oh gods, don’t-you clench and it-”

“Sorry.” Geralt whispers, one hand coming up to scratch gently through the fur of his chin, soothing him.

“No harm done.” He reassures, licking over Geralt’s lips in imitation of a kiss. “And you? Still doing well?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs softly, almost sounding high. “Adrian?”

“At your service.” The katakan says eagerly. 

“Another...another nibble. For the knot. Just...just a little, I don’t wanna pass out.”

Adrian looks concerned. “Are you sure? You don’t  _ have  _ to take the knot, I just thought it would be funny.”

Geralt’s hand goes from the werewolf to the vampire, scratching through the beard. “It’s okay batty, I know my limits. You haven't reached them yet.”

Reassured the katakan bends to the other shoulder, biting quickly and sucking for less than a second, stopping as soon as the witcher murmured for him to do so. Gordon takes a deep breath as he can feel the witcher relax a fraction more, and slowly pushes in. The knot encounters considerable resistance, and he’s just about to give up when wonders of wonders it pops in. He stares, astonished.

“...It fits.” 

The katakan leans over to look. “Oh gods,  _ it fits.” _

“It  _ does?” _ Geralt says, surprised, and he’s the one impaled on it.

They all stop for a moment, disbelieving, and then Adrain bursts into laughter. Gordon laughs too after a moment. Geralt just grins widely, smugly pleased with himself.

“You are such a whore.” Adrian titters teasingly once he’s got his breath back. “Look at you, taking  _ all _ of that dog cock.”

“You liiiike it.” Geralt slurs.

“I  _ love  _ it.” Adrian says gleefully. “Feel like taking a bat cock now?”

“Gods yes.”

Geralt grins up at him, and then the katakan is assisting him to pull up onto his arms. The witcher swallows the vampire down easily, Adrian making stifled little noises as he tries not to come instantly. He’s been holding off his orgasm for what felt like  _ hours,  _ but he refuses to come just yet. He wants his turn inside the witcher, when he’s slick with a werewolf’s cum, thoroughly debased. It’s that happy thought that gets him through everything until the witcher’s lips are brushing the hair at the base. He marvels at the view, how the witchers jaw only just barely fit around his girth, and how one of his hands could comfortably cup the entire side of his head. It was almost unbearably erotic.

“Why is it that you being so...so  _ small  _ such a…” He made a stifled noise as Geralt swallowed around his cock.

“Size kink.” Gordon rasps, watching Geralt smoothly taking the length not unlike a snake swallowing a large meal. He distantly wonders if witchers can unhook their jaws. “Because what male  _ doesn't  _ like it when their dick looks huge?”

Adrian chitters again-somewhat breathlessly-and pulls back to let the man breathe. Geralt pants, getting his breath back, then starts lapping obscenely at the tip. 

“Like how much bigger you are than me, batty?” He rasps. “Like having me choke on your huge cock?”

Adrian makes a few strangled noises at that, cock jerking. It takes everything he has not to come, and he has to force himself to calm down a little before he can slide back in. Just to torment him, Geralt makes himself gag on it; he doesn't really  _ have _ a gag reflex right now, but he’ll do it just for him. Adrian makes a shrill shrieking noise, sounding very overwrought, moving jerkily. He’s obviously holding back, trying not to hurt the witcher, but it’s a near thing.

Gordon, upon seeing this, can’t help but move himself, though he’s able to at least wait until Geralt strokes his thigh, a clear ‘go ahead’ from the witcher. He pulls back-the sensation of his knot popping out sending cold tingles up his spine-and starts to move very slowly, letting Geralt get used to the sensation. He doesn't push his knot in again; he’ll save that for when he comes, to make sure he pumps every last drop inside. He lets his tongue hang out, eyes rolling back, just wallowing in the sensations.  _ My gods, the full moon can’t come soon enough; I need my she-wolf so bad- _

He’s started to whine softly, trying not to really lose it when Adrian pulls out to let Geralt breathe again. “Go on, howl for me already dog.” The witcher hisses.

He laughs unevenly, then let's go; letting himself get as vocal as he wanted. Geralt makes a pleased sound. “Yeah, fuck me,  _ harder,  _ dog, I’m not a china doll, c’mon-”

Adrian silences that torturous mouth, pressing back in “Silence you...infuriating…” Adrian groans, unable to finish, only able to rock more frantically into that wicked mouth. Gordon bares his teeth in a smile and gets to fucking like the witcher wanted, still not using his full strength, but not treating him gently either. 

Once more Adrian pulls back to let his gasp, Geralt’s head light with the huge cock giving his ass the workout of a lifetime and oxygen deprivation from the katakan suffocating him. “C-close, oh  _ fuck  _ Gordan-put the knot in, plase, wanna come on it-”

The werewolf groans and complies, slipping in far more easily this time, and that does it for Geralt. He thinks he might've had a fit or something, because he can feel his extremities twitching without conscious control. It’s enough to finally tip Gordon over the edge, and the guy even pull his head back to howl deafeningly loud-fulfilling every stereotype there was about werewolves. He holds him on the knot for at least a few minutes, pushing in as far as he can; to well, fill him of course, but also for a practical reason-it tends to swell when he comes, and he doesn't want it to tear the ring of muscle around Geralt’s entrance. It’s actually kind of uncomfortable, Geralt grimacing at the sensation, too fucking much to his senses after he’s come. Thankfully he doesn't stay that way for long, the tightness of Geralt’s body squeezing on it helping it to shrink. As soon as it’s shrunk enough, he carefully works it out, and Geralt groans in relief when it eases out.

“All right?” Gordon rasps hoarsely, shifting back to human form as soon as he can-it takes a minute to shift back after he’s come, for whatever reason-so he can slide out easier.

“Yeah,” Geralt groans, “But _ fuck _ , am I going to be walking funny for a week.”

The katakan chuckles, and then licks his lips, watching the cum leak out of his abused hole. “Mind if I take sloppy seconds?”

Geralt grins lopsidedly up at him. “You a fan?”

“Of fucking you and feeling how much the werewolf enjoyed having his way with you? Oh yes, definitely.”

Gordon grins toothily at the vampire. “I should fuck you while in my wolf form, and you in your bat form. You’re  _ definitely  _ big enough to take my knot.”

“Oh gods  _ yes.”  _ Adrian groans, then turns back to Geralt. “But, for now…”

“Lie back,” Geralt says, getting up. “Wanna ride you.”

The katakan scrambles to oblige, and Geralt grins. He’s nice and loose from his fourth orgasm of the night and from the dog having his fun, and it’s barely any effort to slide down on him all in one go, the way eased with the oil and still-warm cum. He grabs the vampire's crown roughly, pulling his face to his crotch. “Lick me clean batty.”

Adrian groans and complies as best as he can. It’s a difficult angle, and he’s not that flexible, but Geralt’s grip on his hair is unrelenting. Besides, his tongue is certainly long enough to reach the rest of the way, the delicately pointed tip flicking light and fast over him. The self-assured way the witcher is roughly handling him-completely unafraid, and obviously in charge despite being the one getting fucked-is a massive turn-on too, and he licks as eagerly as a whore like him is capable of. He listens gleefully as Geralt’s breath starts to hitch, the cock starting to rise under his attentions.

“Oh  _ fuck,  _ Adrian-”

“Yes witcher,” He hisses, mustering enough control back to get his voice to go into that sibilant register that drove his customers wild. “Yes, I want you to come for me, on my cock and all over my face, mark me with that fearlessness-”

Oh  _ fuck  _ is he willing to comply; riding that cock for all it’s worth, the vampire under him hissing in the delightfully creepy register that fucks with his sense for danger, giving this the edge needs to have his cock rise for one last stand.  _ Yes witcher, show me what a monster-slayer is capable of, yes- _ and he can’t help snarl back, sounding more bestial than the monster under him, and he’s finally able to come one last time. Adrian groans blissfully, his eyes closing in pleasure as he feels the cum land on him, feels the witcher flutter around his cock, and pins those slim hips down on his cock so he can come as deep as he could.

* * *

  
  


A change of sheets and a bath later, Geralt’s happily ensconced at the center of the bed again, leaning back on the headboard, a whore under each arm. Gordon has pulled a pipe out of his bag and they’re passing it around, because apparently katakans  _ can  _ get high on weed. Adrian sucks on the pipe contemplatively.

“Mmm...this is better than blood, actually. Thanks Gordon.”

“What, really?”

“To be honest, blood tastes mostly like copper. I mean, this isn't exactly cheesecake and chocolate, but it’s better.”

He passes it back to Geralt, who takes a deep draught, and then shares it with Gordon, who chuckles delightedly and sucks in the smoky kiss. Adrian watches, fascinated. “Gods, that's so  _ sexy. _ I think I have a witcher _and_ werewolf fetish now.”

Geralt grins down at him. “Well, there’s always the morning. What say we experiment some more after some sleep, hmm? I rented you two at least until noon.”

“Lovely.” Gordon purrs. “Let’s play some more after a good rest. Will you want us to keep you company while you sleep?”

“Gods yes.” Geralt says happily, sliding down. Adrian happily tucks himself into the deliciously warm embrace of the witcher, while Gordon tucks Geralt into his arms in turn. 

Geralt makes them both chuckle when he puts out the lights-and the pipe-with a flick of his wrist, and they’re fast to fall asleep.


End file.
